


Can't Make A Sound

by RaeVan87



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Choking, Dubious Consent, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 01:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3402677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeVan87/pseuds/RaeVan87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a run in with Lucifer, you’re worried your subconscious has lost it’s mind…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Make A Sound

**Author's Note:**

> A/N1: Title of this oneshot is from an Elliott Smith song, because I got the idea for this while listening to it. This was just a quick little thing I wanted to do.  
> A/N2: Always open to requests

**Can’t Make A Sound**

 

                It was another one of those sleepless nights. Sam and Dean had passed out long ago and try as hard as you might, you just couldn’t fall asleep. The numbers on the cheap motel clock occupied your attention as you willed your body to relax and your mind to quiet down.

                Close calls were something that you were still getting used to, and while you envied Sam and Dean for their ability to sleep after having such a night, you also felt incredibly sorry that they were so accustomed to it that it hardly seemed to faze them anymore. You shuddered at the thought that you too might have the same reaction some day. You’d seen a lot of things in your time with them, but coming face to face with Lucifer himself was far beyond the spectrum of things you could adequately handle, for various reasons.

                Taking a deep breath you roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, trying to sort through the events of the day. Unwillingly, all your mind seemed focused on was Lucifer’s face, the intensity of his gaze and the overwhelming confidence he exuded.

                You knew far too well that you had a knack for falling for the wrong guy, but this certainly took the cake. Finding your greatest enemy attractive certainly didn’t make things easier for you and your emotions swayed from pure terror to wanton longing.

                For once in your life you wished that you could control those raging hormones of yours.

                Just before you dropped off into a listless sleep, the image of his devious smile floated behind your eyes and was the last thing you remembered.

                ~             *             ~             *             ~

                A rustle, nothing terribly alarming, but it was enough to rouse you. Your fingers against the gun under your pillow, as you cautiously sit up in bed. The air rushes out of your lungs and a dark cloud swims around your vision as your eyes settle on the source of the noise.

                Lucifer.

                “Hello, Y/N” he says calmly, standing at the foot of your bed as if he had always been there.

                Your lips move but no sound comes forth as your eyes shift between his dimly lit figure to where Sam and Dean slept only a few feet away. They appear to be fast asleep and unharmed. Reaching to your throat you try to speak again, only to find that you are still muted and panic starts to settle in around you.

                “Oh, don’t worry, Y/N. I’m not really here” he informed casually, sitting on the edge of the bed and examining the wallpaper with an air of stoic boredom.

                Pulling the blankets around you, you shift uncomfortably, wary by both his presence and your inability to speak.

                “Sorry about the voice thing,” he began, gesturing towards his throat, though his attention was still everywhere but you. “Couldn’t have you waking Sam and Dean now could I?” he concluded as if it were the most logical solution. 

                Shifting backwards, you slide back on the bed until your back leans up against the wall. You hardly blink as your hand feels for the gun that is no longer against your fingers.

                “I hope you don’t mind” remarked, holding up your gun, “I took the liberty of moving this so we don’t have any unexpected surprises.” He lays the gun down on the nearby table and turns his full attention towards you.

                The intensity of his gaze was alarming to say the least. His eyes seemed to see right through your terrified exterior to the lingering thoughts within and his sly smile seemed to corroborate.

                “You can relax. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to be” he went on. You tried not to fidget under his gaze but still kept your senses on high alert.

                What did he mean that he wouldn’t be there if you didn’t want him to be? Or that he wasn’t really there, come to that.

Setting your jaw and furrowing your brow your mind raced as he stared expectantly at you, waiting for you to come to some conclusion. Were you dreaming? Glancing over at Sam and Dean again who were still peacefully asleep your suspicions seemed confirmed. They were both such light sleepers that they surely would have heard that Lucifer was sitting at the foot of your bed having a casual conversation with you.

                You nodded to yourself, figuring this all must be some confused, sexually frustrated dream of yours and swore that you were going to make some changes in your life, starting the very next morning.

                “There, that’s so much easier, isn’t it?” he agreed as if following your train of thought.

                Not bothering to try and speak once more, you simply nod to him, huffing a laugh out your nose at the ridiculousness of your subconscious.

                “Now all you need to do…” he said quietly, crawling up the bed towards you, “Is lay back and accept it…” His face brushed against your cheek as his lips sought out your neck, lightly kissing a trail from your jaw line to your shoulder where his teeth lightly grazed your flesh.

                Your body froze at his proximity, your hunter’s instinct preparing you for a fight but the moment his lips touched your skin, all the tension in your muscles evaporated. You let out a small gasp as his lips were surprisingly cold; the little hairs on the back of your neck standing up and you shuddered despite yourself.

                “Sorry if it’s a bit chilly. _Most people think I burn hot_ _._ It’s actually quite the opposite” he whispers, his lips caressing your skin as he speaks.

                You barely heard his words as you tilt your head to the side and his lips continue to work over your shoulder, becoming more and more forceful. His right hand slips behind your back and pulls you away from the wall, sliding you back down on the bed. Placing his hands on the bed on either side of you to hold himself up, he smiles down at you, a knowing smile that is both devious and haunting. You feel helpless and small under his weight, but looking up at him, it’s exactly where you want to be.

                He lowers himself, pressing his pelvis in between your legs while his mouth goes to the hollow of your throat. A moan rises from your chest to your lips but comes out as only a soft exhalation of air. You claw at the neck of the oversized shirt that you typically wore to bed, trying to grant him further access to your skin.

               His hands slide down over the curve of your sides to your hips where the chill of his fingers touches the bare skin of your thighs. You bite your lip to stifle the initial shock but tremble as the fingers move back upward, sliding up your body under your shirt, pulling it upwards. His touch avoids your bare breasts with teasing precision and he slips the shirt off your arms and over your head.

               He works his jaw, tensing and releasing the muscles while he pauses to regard you. He pulls back to sit on his knees, crooking a finger for you to follow. Without thought or hesitation you obey, sitting up in bed to bring your face to his. Your noses almost touching you find your breaths uneven and labored; the fear you felt was swirling to mix with lust into a decidedly dangerous combination.

               Running the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw, your eyes close lightly as his hands reach for your wrists. You freeze when you realize he’s bringing them behind your back, looping your rolled t-shirt around them tightly. Struggling you attempt to pull your wrists back and his gaze turns to you, a fire in his eyes.

               “Don’t fight me…” he purrs, though behind the smooth tone there’s a hint of threat and you let your arms go limp.

               It’s all just a dream, anyway… Might as well see where your twisted subconscious takes you, right?

               He secures your arms at the base of your back, tying them tightly together but not so much that it was painful. His hands drag away slowly to rest on your hips, the touch so surprisingly gentle.

               Staring at you with sideways grin he sways back and forth like a beast toying with his prey. You know he’s about to do something, but you could only imagine what it was.

               Hands suddenly cup your backside, pulling your waist into his lap and causing your back to fall hard onto the bed. He glides his hand up and down your stomach before it disappears over your mound and his thumb glides over your slit, rubbing up and down through the wetness that had accumulated through his teasingly meticulous movements.

               Stealing a look at him, you’re further aroused by the seemingly curious expression on his face, his eyes fixated on your sex. The calm power that emanated from him was overwhelming.

               Without warning his thumb slipped between your folds, making a few passes over your entrance before finding it’s way up to your nerve bundle. You bite your lip and couldn’t help the trembling in your legs. His movements so patient and calculated that they were executed with pinpoint precision and you feel yourself unraveling at the seams.

               Your hands pinned useless underneath you, you struggle to grip the sheets, desperately seeking something to hang on to as the tiny circles of his thumb increase in speed. Closing your eyes you arch your back, whimpering silently, wanting more than just his hands touching you.

               As his thumb ceased it’s ministrations, your eyes flew open to look down at him. His head turned downward but his eyes drew up to your face, staring at you as he eased a finger into you, refusing to let you break eye contact. Your jaw dropped in a silent gasp as his finger worked deliberately in and out of you in long, smooth movements. A second finger was soon added and he bit his lip tauntingly, eyes still intent upon you.

               You grit your teeth together, refusing to break eye contact but not without great effort. The width of his fingers felt sublime as they languidly worked inside of you, his middle finger slightly crooked to stroke your g-spot. His thumb appeared again against your clit and you threw you head back, unable to contain yourself. He was bringing you closer and closer to climax, all while still seated calmly between your legs.

               The sudden absence of the coolness of his fingers brought a rush of heat to your core. You wriggle slightly to protest, only to glance down to see his face disappearing below you, though you’d hardly felt him move.

               Lips suckle at your slit and you steal yourself to lay still, your hips desperately wanting to push to his face.

               And then you feel it.

               His forked tongue runs over your mound, down your slit and dips gingerly between your folds, stroking either side at the same time. His arms wrap under your thighs so his strong hands can hold you in place, opening your legs further to him. A low growl of a moan rolls through his throat and vibrates his mouth as his tongue laps, tormenting your clit with an overabundance of pleasures that you’d never felt before.

               Your senses start to fray and you have little warning as your orgasm crashes down on you, causing you to be thankful for your silence as you take the Lord’s name in vain over and over again. He continues his steady movements, riding out your climax for as long as you can handle until you’re your thrashing against his firm grip for him to stop.

               Giving your folds a finally suck he raises his head to look at you, shoulders hunched in a predatory manor. You pant heavily, trying to clear your head and regain your breath but you’re unable to look away from him. Like a mouse staring at the cheese on a trap they know all too well will kill them.

               He peels his shirt off his shoulders, standing to shed himself of his pants and underwear. You briefly regard that he is wearing black boxers with cartoon devils on them and smile to yourself before he’s at you again, prying your legs apart and falling over you. Bringing his face to yours he stares at you hungrily.

               “I need your consent” he demands, his tone heavy but still calm and collected.

               Your lips part and then slam back shut, confused by his comment and your inability to verbally do so while muted.

               “Tell me you want it, that you want me inside you” he presses, as he grabs your biceps, holding them roughly to the bed.

               “I want you, I consent” you whisper as you could feel your voice return.

               A wicked smile spreads to his lips and not a moment later you feel him enter you, spreading your walls around his length and stretching to accommodate. Words fall silently from your lips as your voice disappears once more. He pins you in place, bracing himself on your biceps as his hips pressed harder and harder. You’d been surprised by his collected gentleness up until this point, now he appeared to have abandoned it altogether.

               The punishing blows of his pelvis against yours were nearly enough to cause more pain than you could handle, but in the situation it felt exquisite as he continually pounded you into the mattress.

               Ragged breaths huffed out of him as he pumped in and out, the bed squeaking mercilessly beneath you and you couldn’t help but look over to where Sam and Dean slept again. Only Dean’s face was visible but it was as serene as ever, completely oblivious to the sinful activities happening beside him.

               Lucifer’s hand left your bicep and you were surprised when it found your throat, holding it firmly but not enough to cut off your air supply completely. Alarms went off in your mind but the ringing was muffled by the approach of your second climax. Your moist walls snug around his manhood and you could feel it thickening and tensing with his nearing orgasm.

               Your airways grew more and more narrow as he approached his climax, yours trailing just behind it. As your breath became strangled he exhaled hard, cock pulsing inside you and pumping his load into you. The pulsations and the dizzying lack of breath sent you over the edge as you choked out a silent scream. His hand came away from your throat and you gasped harshly.

               “Oh God!” you cry out, riding the tremors of your orgasm.

               “What?! Who’s there? What happened?!” Dean yelled, jumping up from his bed and quickly looking around, half dazed.

               Your eyes flew open and you pulled the blankets up to your neck just as his tired gaze fell on you, squinting and trying to adjust.

               “What’s going on?” he asked accusingly after seeing there was no imminent danger.

               “I- uh…” you stammer, shivering as your orgasm still has you in it’s throws and you struggle for coherent thought. “Bad dream” you managed.

               “Bad dream, huh?” he asks, skepticism written all over his face. He eyes the blanket and your guilty face with pursed lips.

               “What’s going on?” Sam asked sleepily.

               “Nothing, Sammy. Time to get up” Dean says quickly, not breaking eye contact with you.

               The sun had just started to rise and it peaked through the cheap, vinyl motel curtains.

               You struggle to control your breathing as inconspicuously as possible while under Dean’s scrutiny. He gives you an all knowing smile before sitting back down onto the bed and turning his attention back to Sam who was running his fingers through his own hair.

               You flushed with embarrassment, feeling like a school girl all over again. You curse yourself for the vivid dream and feel around under the blankets for the t-shirt that you had apparently discarded. When your fingers find soft fabric you pull it out from under the blanket, only to go wide eyed and quietly gasp as you threw the fabric down on the comforter.

               Dean and Sam look over at you curiously.

               “Ugh, gross. Probably should have checked that the bed was clean before you slept in it, hey Y/N?” Dean teased lightly but then shuddered as he lifted the sheets to check his own bed.

               You were unable to look away; laying there in front of you was a pair of black boxers, complete with cartoon devils.


End file.
